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“If you call me by the wrong name again, there will be hell to pay.”
“I mean, I do know the cul-de-sac is called Kingston Lane, but I didn’t realize it had its very own king. How lucky we are.”
“Because she doesn’t take deposits from the bank of tiny cock.”
Get fucked.
“The blood of small children.”
“Playing Monopoly,”
He gives me a sexy wink. “This is the warm-up.” “For what?” I play dumb. “Bedroom Olympics.”
“Because he’s a fucking idiot.” “Who’s touching your stuff?” I tease. “Precisely.”
“Because it’s triggering me. How it is not triggering you is the question.”
He nods as he realizes that he has just shown me a piece of his personality that he normally keeps hidden. Another piece of the Henley James puzzle fits into place. My man has OCD.
“Vanessa called three times.”
“Tell her I died,”
Her gentle pattern of breathing is calming, like a balm to my soul.
I’ve never known such a beautiful being, and I’m not even talking about the outside packaging.
“I adore her.”
“She’s all I fucking think about.”
“Can I have a hug?”
“Thanks for waiting for me to get here . . .”
“Flipping my breakfast. What does it look like?”
“I love you.”
I know exactly where I’ll be in five years. Married to her.
“So what time are we getting married tomorrow?” He breaks into a breathtaking smile. “Don’t even joke. I’m feeling unhinged enough to actually want to do it.”
“You are so fucking dumb I can’t even stand it,”
“Pussy whipped,” Blake mutters under his breath. I smile, because never has a truer word been spoken. “Happily so.”
“You honestly think we didn’t know?”
I sit at the kitchen counter and smile into my coffee like the cat that got the cream, because I did just that.
